Michigan Todayhttps://michigantoday.umich.edu
Tue, 02 Jun 2020 20:48:13 +0000en-US
hourly
1 U-M to launch second wave of research re-engagementhttps://record.umich.edu/articles/u-m-to-launch-second-wave-of-research-re-engagement/#comment-3938
https://record.umich.edu/articles/u-m-to-launch-second-wave-of-research-re-engagement/#comment-3938#respondTue, 02 Jun 2020 20:38:29 +0000https://michigantoday.umichsites.org/?p=30065https://record.umich.edu/articles/u-m-to-launch-second-wave-of-research-re-engagement/#comment-3938/feed/0President Mark Schlissel: ‘We need to bring about change’https://president.umich.edu/news-communications/on-the-agenda/we-need-to-bring-about-change/
https://president.umich.edu/news-communications/on-the-agenda/we-need-to-bring-about-change/#respondMon, 01 Jun 2020 21:10:42 +0000https://michigantoday.umichsites.org/?p=30059https://president.umich.edu/news-communications/on-the-agenda/we-need-to-bring-about-change/feed/0U-M Chief Diversity Officer Robert Sellers: ‘I am so tired’https://odei.umich.edu/2020/05/29/i-am-so-tired/
https://odei.umich.edu/2020/05/29/i-am-so-tired/#respondMon, 01 Jun 2020 20:58:12 +0000https://michigantoday.umichsites.org/?p=30050https://odei.umich.edu/2020/05/29/i-am-so-tired/feed/0Riot? Or massacre?https://michigantoday.umich.edu/2020/05/30/riot-or-massacre/
https://michigantoday.umich.edu/2020/05/30/riot-or-massacre/#commentsSat, 30 May 2020 16:03:06 +0000https://michigantoday.umichsites.org/?p=26724Editor’s note: In light of recent uprisings across the U.S. (as of May 30, 2020), Michigan Today is reposting this story, originally published July 18, 2019. We are so proud of Michigan alumna Maggie Yar for her research and social activism. At the same time, we are disheartened by history repeating itself, to the day, 99 years later.

What’s in a name?

Maggie Yar, BA ’95. (Image courtesy of Maggie Yar.)

You know a community wants to reconcile the blood on its bootheels when some of its leaders start referring to its Race Riot as its Race Massacre.

That the community, Tulsa, Okla., is in what is commonly viewed as a red state perhaps makes the reconciling — a century after the event — all the more significant.

In the thick of the effort is Maggie Yar ’95, executive director of the Hille Foundation, an organization founded by her parents that serves low-income residents in the Tulsa area. Yar is chair of the economic development committee of the Tulsa Race Massacre Centennial Commission, which is working to educate the local community and the nation about the massacre. Her committee also is striving to spur redevelopment in “Black Wall Street,” as Tulsa’s Greenwood neighborhood was known before the massacre.

Planning now is underway to mark the centennial, which occurs in 2021.

A crash course in reality

Just how serious were the attacks on Greenwood? Below is a summary from the Tulsa Historical Society and Museum:

On the morning of May 30, 1921, a young black man named Dick Rowland was riding in the elevator in the Drexel Building at Third and Main with a [white elevator operator] named Sarah Page. The details of what followed vary from person to person . . . An inflammatory report in the May 31 edition of the Tulsa Tribune spurred a confrontation between black and white armed mobs around the courthouse . . . In the early morning hours of June 1, 1921, Greenwood was looted and burned by white rioters. Gov. James Robertson declared martial law, and National Guard troops arrived in Tulsa. Guardsmen assisted firemen in putting out fires, took African-Americans out of the hands of vigilantes and imprisoned all black Tulsans not already interned. Over 6,000 people were held . . . In the wake of the violence, 35 city blocks lay in charred ruins, over 800 people were treated for injuries and contemporary reports of deaths began at 36. Historians now believe as many as 300 people may have died.

Don’t say a word

To get a sense of just how much Tulsa historically has tried to keep the incident quiet, Yar, a Tulsa native, didn’t learn about it until after earning her law degree from Southern Methodist University, in Dallas, in 2001.

Indeed, the commission initially used “Riot” in its own name, then changed that word to “Massacre.”

“We have never dealt with the massacre the way that we should have. We have not made it a part of our city’s fabric in the way that it should be,” Yar says.

It’s “shocking, horrifying” that the incident is not more well known, she says. “Embarrassing, personally,” she adds. “How did I not know that about the city I grew up in? And why isn’t it being taught in school, why isn’t it something that, if you’re from here and live here, that everyone knows about and talks about?”

History lesson

Republican G.T. Bynum, Tulsa’s 41-year-old mayor, is proposing the city spend $100,000 in its 2019-20 budget to search for possible mass graves from the incident.

“You had white men coming into Black Wall Street by the truckloads and literally taking people out, lining them up, and burning everything,” Yar says. “You have blocks and blocks literally burned to the ground. I mean, it was a massacre. A riot implies the two sides were fighting against each other, and that was not true.

“I don’t think that history is questioned, we’re just hiding that it happened at all.”

A truckload of armed men drives into the fray. (Image: Alvin C. Krupnick Co., photographer.)

Yar believes her Michigan experience helped prepare her for her role as a citizen who wants to set the record straight.

“I definitely had my eyes opened; I was exposed to more differences and more points of view,” she says. “Michigan definitely taught me how to critically think and how to give a point of view and have to argue it and stand by it.”

Yar says she wants the economic development efforts she’s leading to include creating a “world-class museum or exhibit” to remember the massacre, Black Wall Street, and Greenwood.

“I don’t want this to be just a one-time event, or one thing that we just commemorate in 2021 and that’s it,” Yar says. “I’m hoping that the commission’s work will really allow it to become part of our city’s fabric.”

In Yar’s view, city and state government leaders are supportive of the centennial plans, and white residents have not been resistant. But there is a wariness among African-American residents in Tulsa about how the massacre will be remembered.

“There is a lot of hurt and a lot of anger and a lot of mistrust,” she says. “Our race relations are far from perfect; I think we have a long way to go. But is there a lot of good work going on? Yes, there have been a lot of strides.”

I chose to talk about how we frame issues. This choice was motivated by what felt like a sense of distance and discouragement at the end of our COVID-19-motivated remote class.

The feeling of discouragement arose from many places. There were the human aspects of isolation and the psychological weight that comes from both the worries about COVID-19 as a health threat and its huge disruption to our economy. Anecdotally, at least as important to the despair was seeing the responses to COVID-19 by both our governments and our citizens.

Early on in the COVID-19 response, I heard such facile statements as, “See, the government can respond to crises. We can do the same for climate change.” It did not take long however, for the complexity of the unprecedented pandemic to be parsed into polarized political statements. False choices set the foundation for much of the public discourse, i.e., closing the economy versus saving lives. From these seeds grow all of the issues that feed conspiracies. Suddenly the scientists and politicians are carrying out broad political agendas of government control versus individual freedoms.

In my talk, I pointed out that we should expect such tactics. Progress only comes from recognizing them as tactics and eroding their effectiveness as barriers to driving change.

Live free and/or die?

I was, however, more motivated by the feelings expressed by some of my students about individuals’ responses as COVID-19 stopped the world in its tracks. They told me they were discouraged by people who dismissed wearing masks and ignored social distancing. In particular, they were frustrated by the way in which those individuals might undermine any benefit achieved by those adhering to public health guidelines. There was a transference of a feeling that we, as individuals, really do not have the ability to solve complex societal problems — at least in part, because other individuals will undo all that we can do.

First, a point. Success in fighting COVID-19 does not, in fact, require every individual to adhere to the guidelines of social distancing, wearing masks, and washing hands. It requires most of us to do this, and indeed, those who think about the availability of hospital beds consider whether or not 60 percent, 70 percent, or 80 percent follow the guidelines. By taking personal responsibility, we do gain some control over a complex problem.

How did we get here?

Cheonggyecheon is a public recreation space in Seoul, Korea. At seven miles long, this massive urban renewal project is a major success in land use to preserve and protect the environment while promoting environmental wellness.

My class ultimately is about gaining control over complex problems by first, having knowledge about the problem, and, second, having techniques to forge a solution.

So, how did we get to the situation we have with climate change?

In many ways, it was through the choices and actions made by individuals. Many of these choices have benefited us as individuals and as countries — as Americans, we need only observe our purchasing power and high standard of living. If we wanted to argue for argument’s sake, we could claim the move to using fossil fuel saved the whales (and all that whale oil) in the late 1800s.

Hence, climate change follows from the effects of myriad choices made by individuals and organizations. Solutions also, logically, arise from the myriad choices made by individuals and organizations. A difference between how we got here and how we move forward is that we have to take stock of the collective effects of all of our decisions and steer them toward beneficial outcomes.

Individual choices … collective outcomes

It’s easy to get discouraged when we don’t see the immediate benefit of a climate-friendly decision. In fact, it seems the problem only gets worse. The electric-car driver who owns a solar charging station can’t help but be frustrated by the neighbor’s choice of a 600-horsepower pickup truck.

On the other hand, we didn’t really see negative climate impacts when parents were buying new cars for their 16-year-old drivers back in the 1970s. Admit it, all parties were pretty excited about their gas guzzlers back in the day.

I do believe that solutions to our climate challenges come more from scaling up the successful strategies of individuals and organizations than top-down policy approaches. But as a society, we still tend to dream of a magical global solution; we look too much to someone to blame; too much to someone who will pay.

If nothing else, we need to accept that the individual choices we make now will accumulate into collective outcomes later. Therefore, informed, evidence-based decisions by individuals do matter.

Earn the trust of a stranger over the course of five weeks, and work with them to document the essence of a day in their life.

That was the directive for students producing their final project in David Turnley’s winter 2020 documentary photography class at the Penny W. Stamps School of Art & Design and the Residential College.

But the parameters of the project quickly changed in March when U-M announced plans to move classes online and encouraged students to return home in order to slow the spread of COVID-19.

Course correction

Turnley, a Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer and documentarian, realized the coronavirus pandemic created an opportunity to mentor young photographers through an unprecedented global event. For the past 40 years, he has covered most of the world’s major uprisings, wars, and unrest — including the Gulf War, 9/11, and the struggle to end apartheid, among others.

Abiding by quarantine and social distancing recommendations, he directed his students to turn their cameras inward — to document themselves and those closest to them during this historic moment.

“I wanted them to think of this as a personal diary they will have for the rest of their lives,” Turnley says. “It was a privilege to get to have this uniquely intimate view of the day-to-day lives of 26 diverse families who are living in quarantine across America. It was very moving.”

Act naturally

There are photographs of tearful goodbyes as U-M seniors realized their time in Ann Arbor had come to an abrupt end. Photographs of boxes being packed and unpacked as several moved back home. Of family meals. Relatives peering through panes of glass. Moments of boredom, anxiety, and worry.

“I’m proud of them because I believe that they understood that there was a real gravitas to what they’re doing,” Turnley says. “More than any students I’ve had before, they’re getting a chance as documentary photographers to understand, in some real sense, what it’s like to be in a war zone. It is a very different kind of war zone, but we’re all in it right now, and you can see that reflected in the photos that they’re making.”

Turnley, who also has been documenting his own family during the pandemic, said that the students’ assignment mirrors his experiences as a photojournalist covering wars or conflicts in other countries, where he would work with an offsite photo editor. Over the course of their final five-week-long project, students would send him a selection of images each week, and he would offer critiques and encouragement.

Getting personal

Photo by Destini Riley (Angier, NC).

Destini Riley, a rising senior majoring in art and design, started chronicling her life in Ann Arbor before moving back in with her parents in Angier, N.C., in late March. During the week that followed, she ended up documenting the devastation of a tornado that tore through Estill, S.C. She made the four-hour trip with her family to help her aunt, uncle, and cousins, who were all injured and whose home was completely destroyed.

“It was a surreal experience, and I feel closer to people I’ve known for years because I was paying more attention to them in a very vulnerable situation,” she says. “As the weeks went by after moving home, I think that what transformed my project was that I was able to connect with another generation of my family on a deeper level.”

A story of resiliency

Photographs submitted by Konrad Tenwolde, who lives in Ferndale, Mich., tell a story of resiliency. He and his wife, a nurse on the front lines in one of America’s COVID-19 hotspots, also are raising their young daughter.

“There’s an element of stress in our lives because she spends half of her time at the hospital, but we have a toddler right now who doesn’t understand what is happening, so you see a lot of normalcy in my photos,” says Tenwolde, also an art and design senior.

Photo by Natalie Guisinger (Troy, MI).

When Natalie Guisinger left Ann Arbor a few days after returning from spring break in California, she found herself where a lot of college students do when they return home — her childhood bedroom.

“It’s been very nostalgic,” says Guisinger, an art and design junior who has been quarantined with her father in Troy, Mich. “I’ve had to push myself more because it has been so quiet with just the two of us, but it has been a great opportunity to learn from someone like [Turnley]. He teaches the technical side of photography, like framing and lighting, but he has also taught me about the humanness of it, about gaining trust from the people on the other side of the lens.”

One of the main tenets that Turnley teaches his students is vulnerability, especially in a world where social media depicts people at their Instagrammed best.

“You tell great stories and make great photos when you can get people to stop performing,” he says. “And that’s why working on this project with my students who have been so dedicated and committed during this historic and incredible time has been one of the most rewarding experiences that I have had as an educator and mentor.”

(This story is reprinted courtesy of arts.umich.edu. The top image of the young woman in an empty room is by Morgan Hale.)

Reports of rivers of wasted milk and fields of rotting onions no longer needed by restaurants showed the limitations of the food industry to quickly pivot during times of great stress, but local farms and stores have stepped in to fill consumers’ needs.

Ravi Anupindi, professor of technology and operations and faculty director for the Center for Value Chain Innovation at Michigan’s Ross School of Business, says that as demand shifted from restaurants and institutional settings like schools to grocery stores during the pandemic some waste was inevitable. Take milk, he says.

“A large fraction of milk goes to schools in single-serve packaging; milk is also consumed in bulk at restaurants,” he says. “With schools closed, some of those sales move to grocery stores but then manufacturers have to adjust their packaging appropriate for grocery store sales. Also, kids may not fully consume milk in single-serve cartons in schools but at home there will be less wastage, which means overall milk consumption comes down.”

That, coupled with labor shortages leading to lower harvest productivity and transportation under strain, leads to food spoilage. While this hurts larger farms, “local farms can try to adjust to sell directly to consumers or through smaller local stores,” Anupindi says.

Close to home

Operation: Pivot

Argus Farm Stop in Ann Arbor took a week last month to shift its Packard Street location to curbside pickup of online orders. Argus is owned and operated by U-M alumni Kathy Sample and Bill Brinkerhoff. Its Liberty Street location is still open for in-person shopping.

Envisioned as a year-round farmers market when it opened more than five years ago, it bridged the gap between more than 200 local farmers and food producers and consumers who wanted to buy fresh, local food.

“We had three online customers a month ago and today we have over 1,400. [The staff] completely changed the way the store operates within seven days.” Argus Farm Stop’s Bill Brinkerhoff.
“We had three online customers a month ago and today we have over 1,400. It’s a shoutout to our staff — it’s completely changed the way the store operates within seven days,” Brinkerhoff says. “Technology is going to continue to play an increasing role.”

While the supply network is still adapting for larger grocery players, Argus doesn’t need one. If the store needs flour, they call Linda and Lee Purdy near Fenton, Mich., for a truckload. Farmers stop by every couple of days to refresh the supply of kale, lettuce, or basil, Sample says.

“We’ve developed this over the past five years, so it’s given us an advantage,” she says.

They hope customers stick with them and other smaller local businesses that were able to support them when the chain stores struggled.

Joe Trumpey, associate professor at the Stamps School of Art & Design, says the pandemic could get more people thinking about environmental sustainability and the role of food in that.

“Thinking about your food is critical. It’s like the run on toilet paper. People want to have the essentials. When we see people upset about not finding eggs or vegetables they start to look at alternatives, so it’s only logical that we’re thinking about local food systems and local farms,” Trumpey says. “Hopefully it will domino effect into resilient thinking in other supplies and even our power grid.”

Finding joy amid hardship

Resilient, but likely temporary

Small stores are easier for local suppliers to access because they lack the bureaucracy of big retailers like Walmart or Kroger where corporate approval is needed to bring on new suppliers, Anupindi says.

“Up until now, going ‘local’ was labeled as a more sustainable option and often demanded premium prices, so only certain types of stores had local foods,” he says. “But one could also view local sourcing as an element of a resiliency strategy.”

Still, once the food industry has righted itself and filled those shelves empty of toilet paper, flour, and other staples, it will likely lure many consumers back, Anupindi says.

“When supply chains swing back to normal, larger chains will compete better on price and availability,” he says. “Prices are likely higher in smaller stores; with incomes impacted, consumers will look for cheaper costs and go back to larger chains.”

(Top image: A customer picks up an online order at Argus Farm Stop on Packard. Image credit: Michigan Photography.)